Shagging Finniganagainagain
by makeshiftdraco
Summary: Seamus is ready for a change. His persona of choice? Grungy, angst-driven smoker?rnHe soon discovers that sometimes the best way of moving ahead is to remember the past.rnCourtesy warning: slash


Seamus looked out across the dark, smoky room silently.

_If only the other Gryffindors could see me…_ he thought, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

He frowned and tossed it aside, moving his way through the crowd. Grungy muggle teenagers eyed him carelessly, letting him shove past.

He halted at the edge of the stage. The rock band was a much needed escape from the dingy atmosphere.

Seamus sighed and pulled out another cig. He frowned irritably and turned to face the stage as a small blonde girl with black mascara smudged across her face gawked at him.

The lead singer smiled down at him and winked. His jaw dropped. Girls were never interested in him, especially dark haired sex goddesses that sing in rock bands. He nervously lit his cig and glanced at the nearby bar.

He gave the singer a weak smile and glided away through the haze.

"What'll it be?" asked the Goth boy working behind the bar.

"Just give me some ale," Seamus muttered, taking another drag.

"You Gryffindors really are trying…" came a voice from beside him. "It's not enough that you occupy the school constantly. You have to ruin the best night spots as well."

"Shove off," Seamus growled. He whirled around to look the offender in the eyes.

"Malfoy?"

The Slytherin smirked. "Seamus Finnigan-again-again."

"Don't call me that," Seamus snapped.

Draco smiled and sat down at the bar. "You didn't seem to mind it so much when we were little. Don't you remember?"

"I hated it when we were five, and I hate it now, you smug bastard."

The blonde reached out and removed the cigarette from Seamus' hand.

The Gryffindor snatched for it in frustration.  
"Smoking kills, Finnigan."

"Shove off."

The other boy looked like he had no intention of doing so. "So is this what you do in your spare time? Sit around and look moody?"

"What I do in my spare time is no business of yours," he snapped.

Draco grinned and put the cigarette to his mouth. "Be that as it may… I have my curiosity to satiate."

"Smoking kills, Malfoy."

The Slytherin laughed. "That's true, but I'm into the whole death thing, and I'm sure you won't mind my dying sooner."

Seamus had never noticed how free Draco looked when he laughed, tilting his head back slightly. "I don't want anyone to die sooner than they have to," he said softly.

"And that's why you are a truly noble Gryffindor."

Seamus paled.

The Slytherin leaned forward. "Ah…so that's why you're here. You're ashamed of who you are."

"Not who I am," Seamus muttered. "Who I'm supposed to be."

Draco pulled out a new cig. "And who is that?"

Seamus sighed, unsure of why he was telling all this to a Slytherin. "Silly Seamus, always good for a laugh, never to be taken seriously."

Draco chuckled.

"Don't laugh. It's not a joke!"

Draco contained himself. "I just don't see what the problem is being perceived as fun."

"You may call it fun, but I'm sick of it. It's time for a change."

Draco looked doubtful. "And you're choosing this?" He gestured around the room "Grungy, angst-driven smoker?"

Seamus remained silent.

"You don't have to change entirely," muttered Draco. His hand came to rest on top of Seamus'. "There are other ways of being fun." He gave Seamus a meaningful look.

Before Seamus could think, Draco leaned forward and kissed him.

Seamus pulled away in shock. "What are you saying? You think I'm GAY?"

"Well, I was kind of hoping…"

Seamus struggled to grasp the situation.

Draco waited patiently. "You have to admit you weren't totally repulsed by the idea, or you would have stormed off by now."

He stood there speechless.

"I don't know what the hell is wrong with you, Malfoy, but I am NOT gay, understood?"

The other boy rolled his eyes. "Suit yourself." He quickly stood and glided toward the private rooms.

Seamus stood to chase after him. "Draco, I—"

"Hello…"

Seamus paused as a girl strode up behind him. "What?" He turned around.

"Saw you in the crowd, thought you might want a drink." It was the singer from earlier.

Seamus gulped. "Sure."

"Great. I've got a table in the back." Her eyes watched him mysteriously, surrounded by thick black eyeliner. "Follow me."

Seamus trailed behind her in disbelief as she glided through the crowd. Her thin black tee, torn jeans, and abundant jewelry allowed her to fit in perfectly. She smiled over to a small booth.

As soon as they sat, she reached for his jaw. "Let's skip all this bullshit and get to what we both want."

"Want?" he squeaked as she slid into his lap.

She silenced any objections by kissing him, her tongue sliding easily between his teeth.

Seamus kissed back eagerly, his hands roving.

Suddenly, a memory came back to him.

He was five years old, sitting on a doorstep, crying.

"What are you crying for Finnigan-again-again?"

"Don't call me that!" he sniffed.

He looked up to see a small blonde boy staring at him, a worried expression on his face.

"My father says it's silly to cry," said the boy matter-of-factly. "He says it's a sign of weakness."

"It is not!" Seamus objected. "Pansy said I was ugly, and she kicked dirt on my face."

The other boy moved down a step. "Oh." He grabbed a blanket and started to wipe Seamus' face. "Well, Pansy is a stupid ninny. I never wanted to be her friend anyways. My dad makes me."

Seamus' face scrunched up in discomfort as the boy removed a particularly, difficult smudge.

"Besides," said the boy. "I don't think you're ugly. I've always thought you were beautiful."

Seamus rubbed his eyes and looked up.

"And my mother says that all beautiful children grow up to be handsome."

"You really think so?" Seamus asked.

"Of course. Now if Pansy bothers you again, you can tell me. I'll make sure she regrets this." He bent down. "Oh, here." He held out a small toy. "You dropped this."

"You dropped this."

Seamus glanced over to see someone snatching his pack of cigarettes from the floor.

The boy nearly dropped them as he spotted Seamus and the girl.

Seamus fought for words. "Draco?"

The other boy turned and walked away.

"Draco! Wait!" Seamus hurriedly wretched free and dashed after him. "Please!"

He paused to catch his breath as he stepped out into the street. "Draco!"

The other boy stopped and stared at him. "What?"

"You used to think I was beautiful," he blurted out.

"What?" The Slytherin was obviously unamused.

"When we were five, you told me you thought I was beautiful. I remember."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I don't have time for this."

Seamus caught his sleeve. "Draco, that kiss in there. How—how long have you wanted to do that?"

"For long as I can remember," Draco muttered.

"Then why did you stop—"

"Being nice to you?" He sighed. "I was afraid. Afraid of what I wanted. I was afraid that my father would destroy everything I found beautiful."

Seamus smiled. "Not that. Why did you stop kissing me?" He grabbed the other boy by the collar and pulled him into a gentle kiss.

Draco's arms immediately wrapped around the shorter boy as if desperately reaching for something he had lost.

Seamus finally pulled back, breathing heavily. "I realized something in there, Draco."

"Is that what you call it?"

Seamus ignored him. "I didn't want to be cool or different… or with that singer. I wanted to be with you."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"I love you, Draco."

A flicker of relief crossed Draco's eyes. "You were wrong about one thing, Finnigan-again-again."

Seamus grimaced.

"I did not use to think you were beautiful."

Seamus gave him a confused look.

"I still think you're beautiful. The verb tense was all wrong."

"Spare me the grammar critique." Seamus laughed.

Draco ran a finger down Seamus' nose, his gray eyes flashing invitingly. "Still up for a little fun this evening?"

"I've got the whole night open."

Draco smiled. "Good, because what I've got planned may take awhile."

"Why's that?"

"Shagging Finnigan-again-again…hence the repetition of the act."

Seamus entwined his fingers in the other boy's hand. "Trust me. The repetition is well worth it."


End file.
